The Stranger in Black
by Apolaki
Summary: AU: Time Travel. A stranger arrives in Konoha with a mission: to prevent the apocalyptic future he comes from and hunt down those responsible. But to do this, he has to work with the ghosts of his past made living. Presented with the opportunity to set things right, will he be able to overcome the burden of his sacrifices or will he walk down the path of self-destruction?
1. Chapter 1

**The Stranger In Black**

Chapter 01

* * *

Many considered Noguchi Susumu as a calm, level-headed, and dedicated shinobi. He also had the preternatural ability of sensing people from far away, not unlike some very powerful ninja that came before him. In recognition for his abilities, both as a shinobi and as a sensor, he had been placed in Konohagakure's Kekkai-Han as its leader.

The barrier team was responsible for maintaining the massive construct of chakra that served as the village of Konoha's barrier, which detected entry points from all sides, even from above and underneath. This barrier extended from the center of the village, the Hokage Tower, seven kilometers from the walls. The barrier itself was a perfect sphere that enveloped Konoha and its surroundings completely.

The Kekkai-Han was the first line of defense in case of invasion or infiltration and it was their responsibility to monitor the giant ball of water, infused with chakra and representing the barrier, located at the center of their headquarters for any ripples, an indication that someone had passed through the barrier.

Of course, the barrier itself was not perfect. The Kekkai-Han had to possess the latest intelligence reports from the intelligence division and worked with them to assess what certain ripples meant. In the past, they reacted to each and every ripple as an infiltration or the beginnings of an invasion, but the teams they dispatched would always return grumbling about chasing ghosts. So they set up an elaborate method of determining threat levels for each ripple. Small, faint ripples were considered harmless, such as passing merchants or traders; while large, obvious ripples were treated with suspicion and an interception team was always sent out as escorts, be they friends or foes.

But then there were the extremes, the barely-there ripples that almost would not have been detected if the team didn't know where to look, and the giant ripples that told them someone of kage-level was approaching. Of course, the first of the two were most likely ANBU and most Jounin, returning from their missions, and the second was their Hokage or someone close enough in terms of strength.

So that's what the Kekkai-Han did, assessed the ripples that disrupted the chakra sphere of water of any threats, based on the latest intelligence reports, and dispatched teams to either investigate or provide escort. Most of the time, or all of the time, there wasn't much excitement, which suited Susumu just fine. If his boredom was the price for Konoha's safety, then he'd do his duty as dutifully as he could.

But then again, his duty was always a challenge tenfold whenever he needed to train a new member of the Kekkai-Han as he was doing now. They tended to be skittish, because they were new, and had yet to pick up the subtle nuances of reading the meanings of each ripple in the sphere and double-checking on the reports, opting instead to regard each distortion as some imminent invasion threat to the village.

As was the case with Hirano Fumio, a newly-promoted chuunin, who was staring at the chakra sphere with wide eyes.

It was always, always a test of supreme patience dealing with this boy. He was eighteen years old and quite excitable and very, very prone to jumping at shadows. More than once since the boy had joined the team, Susumu had to apologize to irate ANBU captains who've been sent to investigate the reports of a barely-there ripple that caught Fumio's attention only to find a member of ANBU itself in off-duty uniform trying to get intimately acquainted with a date after a romantic picnic in the woods; or a jounin trying to train a team of genin in tracking or some other survival lesson.

It was embarrassing and inconvenient for all parties involved, but it was far more humiliating for the Kekkai-Han, for Susumu especially. Perhaps the boy's talents lay elsewhere? It was taking him too long to learn all that he needed to learn to effectively serve in the Kekkai-Han and Susumu wasn't sure if even his famed patience would keep him from wringing the boy's neck.

"Taichou!"

The current bane of his existence whipped his head around looking for him, eyes filled with an almost-manic glint of determination and horror in his eyes. Susumu closed his eyes, as if willing himself invisible from the boy's searching gaze, before breathing deeply.

"What is it, Hirano-san?" he said, taking a place just behind the boy. At least the boy learned to approach his superior before going off to send another ANBU unit on a wild goose chase.

Fumio gestured to his side of the sphere wildy, "It's nothing I've seen before, sir! The sphere's acting up, all weird and stuff, like there's something big out there and then disappearing and then reappearing and -"

Susumu held up a hand, Fumio's tirade was getting them looks from other members of the barrier team and most weren't very friendly at all.

"Breathe, Hirano-san, you're not making much sense."

Fumio nodded and took several lungfuls of air, trying to calm himself. "It's just, take a look at it, sir, I don't really know what to make of it. I mean, one moment there's the smallest, like really, really small, ripple just over here," he said, pointing to a part of the sphere. "And then it just disappears! But if you wait for it, just a few seconds really, it'll reappear and then it's not just a little ripple anymore! I'm not sure you can even call it that, it's like, like - a wave or something!"

Hmm, it did sound strange. Susumu decided to humor the boy one last time and see for himself what the fuss was about, but if the boy was being stupid again, then he'd fill-in the transfer request himself along with a few medical-care requests too for the boy after he was done wringing Fumio's neck.

His experienced gaze locked onto the part that Fumio pointed at, searching for the tell-tale signs of a ripple. To his eyes, this part of the sphere seemed calm, peaceful, without the slightest trace of-

There! The slightest of ripples, Fumio's description was right. He was about to turn away to look at the reports to see if he could verify the presence of an ANBU or jounin in that area when suddenly the ripple disappeared. He blinked at the sphere for several moments, but then decided to take a closer look. He leaned in and then- there it was again, but this time the ripple was getting stronger, it almost travelled the whole expanse of the sphere now, catching the attention of the other ninja on monitoring duty.

This happened for a few more moments. The ripples would be slight, very small, and then they would disappear before a stronger ripple took over. And each time this stronger ripple emerged, the sphere would seem to deform at a point.

"Hirano-san, get me the latest reports from the last twelve hours, verify if anyone's put up a request for a training skirmish outside the village."

Before Fumio could move to comply with the request, however, the sphere seemed to explode with restless activity. The barely-there ripples were gone and were totally replaced by literal waves that spanned the whole sphere now. And slowly, ever so slowly, the sphere was being drawn into itself at a point, slowly forming a vortex that approached the general direction of the center.

Gasps filled the room as ripples violently disrupted the sphere and for one terrifying moment Susumu wondered if it was possible for the sphere to actually lose its form entirely and revert back into a puddle. But then a more pressing thought entered his mind, what kind of chakra could cause this much disruption? It was almost monstrous.

A stray memory entered his consciousness, from when he was just newly promoted to his position as leader of the Kekkai-Han. That was roughly twelve years ago. And then his eyes widened in realization. There were only very few sources of chakra that could cause this much distortion on the sphere, but even the one from back then didn't cause as much as this new one was doing!

"Everyone!" he barked, the voice of authority snapping all in the room from their shocked stupors, they all turned their gazes away from the sphere and towards their leader. "This isn't the time to be shocked! We need to move, you, you, and you! Inform all ANBU you can find that there's an unknown chakra signature moving towards the eastern gate! Judging from the distortions it's about 4 kilometers away! Move!"

The three jounin that he pointed at nodded and rushed to comply immediately, when one of them suddenly spoke up "What threat level do we tell them?! It's nothing I've ever seen before, sir!"

The other two stopped to look at him, the question in their eyes as well.

It was a good question. Cases like this were extremely rare, and to his knowledge had only ever happened once though it was smaller in scale. The kind of power causing this many distortions on the sensing sphere was astronomical. Of course, each type of ripple or distortion was given a corresponding threat level based on the strength and the reports of activities around the village, regardless of rarity or consistency.

Green was considered friendly, people whose identities and purpose were checked beforehand, a team of chuunin would be sent to escort if they weren't already Konoha ninja; Yellow was suspicious, these were people who they were aware of but not their identities or their purpose, a team of chuunin would be sent to investigate and report back immediately; Red was dangerous, unknown people with unknown strengths and purpose, a team of jounin or ANBU would then be sent depending on the strength of the ripples. There were other color designations, but none that seemed to fit the situation, and in any case he barely had enough time to review them all. He decided to go with the highest threat-level there was on the scale.

"Tell them it's black! Darker than the night they were born!"

"Hai, taichou!" then the three jounin were gone.

Black was the color code for imminent invasion.

"You and you!" He pointed to a set of chuunin by the door. "I don't care who goes where, but I want you to find the Hokage and the Jounin Commander and bring them both here!" He then turned to the remaining occupants in the room.

"The rest of you will continue to monitor the sensing sphere! This might be a single individual or the beginnings of a major invasion! Go over the intelligence we have from the last 24 hours! Find other possible points of infiltration, but whatever you do, do not miss a single thing, people!"

"Hai!"

* * *

For the first time in a long time, he breathed a lungful of sweet, fresh air, even though he was in the middle of a roiling, raging, blazing explosion of chakra and natural energy. The forces of the different energies that surrounded him would have torn any normal human apart by now, but he wasn't concerned. He wasn't like most people. He barely considered himself normal. And besides, most of these energies were centered around and from him. He just needed to rein them in to some semblance of control and let the remaining energy dissipate into the air.

But the temptation of breathing, freely this time, some fresh air was too great an opportunity for him to pass up. He breathed deeply, savoring the smell, the taste, and the feel of the clean air, before he let it out slowly. And again, and again, and again, he repeated the action of breathing.

He was filled with a kind of joyful exuberance. Finally! All the preparations, the sacrifices, everything he'd done up to before this point, had finally come together and gave him his first real breath of relief in decades. He twirled on the spot, eyes taking in greedily. The trees were tall, healthy, and green. The sky was blue and clear. The clouds were white and lazily crossing the sky blue expanse. The earth was brown, not too dry, not too moist.

He was in a place that was unmarred by war and destruction and death, unlike from where he'd just come from: where the trees were dried out husks, the sky was black, the clouds a bloody red, and the earth was cracked and hard. But at last, this place he currently was in knew peace.

And that startled him out of his celebration as remembered why he'd come here in the first place, subjecting his human flesh to the violent energies of the world to cross time and space, enduring the mind shattering experience of seeing stars rushing past him, through him, in speeds he could never comprehend. He remembered his mission.

And the price that he'd had to pay.

Summoning what little strength he could call his own, he sent out tendrils of control over to the energies that surrounded him in a sphere of barely-contained violence. He exerted upon these energies his will, unshakable and strong, and slowly pulled them towards him, returning them to his body like a mother would pull her child towards her.

These energies, chakra and natural energy, relented under his control, willingly submitted to his dominance and returned, filling him with renewed vigor and life. He felt the connection to nature, to his surroundings, and knew that he was in a place definitely from before the war that ravaged in his memories. Now, he only needed to know exactly the when he was in.

Time travel.

He could hardly believe it, but he was here. He'd done it. He'd actually done it! He had the once-in-a-lifetime chance to change everything and make things right. Because if he was anything, he was stubborn and determined and would never give his enemies the satisfaction of killing him and claiming utter victory.

He laughed, then, exhilarated at the prospect of just knowing how to put a wrench into his enemies' schemes. He was excited. He was filled with purpose. He would become the hunter and his enemies the hunted. His satisfaction would be slightly marred by the fact that they wouldn't know why he was hunting them, but it did nothing to dim the prospect. He would have his fun and accomplish his goal, before succumbing at last to his injuries. But first, he needed to find a settlement, a place to establish the timeline he was in, and to assess what damage his body has acquired from such a long-distance trip through time.

And then he felt the air stir around him in an instant. He whirled around and faced several people in animal masks several meters away. They were on guard, weary, with hands on several weapons, most notably the swords strapped to their backs.

ANBU.

He could barely suppress another laugh, surely they wouldn't appreciate the action and put them over the edge and attack. He flexed his fingers, wondering if he was in any condition to fend them off. But his mind never stopped processing what he was seeing. ANBU meant a hidden village and the animal masks meant Konoha, and that meant that Konoha was still...

Still standing.

He ignored his audience in favor of giving his surroundings a quick review. He noted that the trees around were of the same kind that surrounded the hidden village. But aside from that, he couldn't remember where he was exactly or how far he was from the entrance, whichever way it was from here. It'd been a long time since he'd been in this area, he'd already forgotten the many paths that led back to home.

Home. He'd never thought about that for the longest time, but why would he? His home was destroyed, its people scattered, its will of fire all but extinguished in the storms conjured by enemies. And he refused to trade his home for this one, peaceful and intact as it may have been, because that would be like slapping the faces of all the people who had helped him get here. No, he couldn't think of Konoha as home anymore, but he would protect it, nonetheless, but preferably from far, far away.

Banishing his dark thoughts, to dwell on later in the darkness of the night where he was comfortable , he turned his attention once again to the ANBU. He needed to know where he was at in terms of strength, could he set off on his mission so soon after his journey? Or would he need to be patient and wait a little? He decided a little information gathering was in order.

"You there," he said, pointing to the closest ANBU, idly thankful for the heavy hooded black cloak that swathed his body from head to toe and hiding his features from prying eyes. He'd yet come to a decision whether he should go to Konoha, thinking that he could decide after his little experiment.

The ANBU he'd pointed to stiffened, hand still on the hilt of his weapon.

"I have questions that need to be answered."

"So do we," the ANBU replied, his mask depicting the face of a tiger.

He shrugged, not knowing that the ANBU gathered before him couldn't see it from underneath his cloak, but slowly took a seat on the ground. "Then let's consider it an exchange of information." He then sat on the ground.

He pointed again at Tiger. "You must be the leader, right?"

"Correct. What are you doing here?"

It was a valid question. One he had a little trouble trying to find a suitable answer for. Perhaps they were alerted to his presence by that surge of power earlier? Did Konoha have a powerful enough sensor to detect all of that energy? Or were these guys just some random patrol that was close enough to detect his presence? Well, he'd just have to make it up as he went.

"I was just passing by when I sensed a pulse of chakra, so I came to find out what was causing it." An outright lie, he knew that his arrival was the source, he was just testing the waters to see if these ANBU could detect the lie for what it was. They didn't seem to react, that was good. It meant he had a little leeway to work with.

"Is that why you guys are here?" he asked.

Tiger nodded. "Yes."

He shook his head, his hood billowing softly. "Whatever it was, it sure didn't feel nice."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Like I said, I was just passing by. I'm a traveler, see, but it's been a while since I've been here. I think I got lost." A half-truth. He was indeed a traveler and a little lost, but he still hadn't come to a decision yet regarding staying in Konoha, but for the time being he hoped it would be enough to get him his answers.

"Where were you going?"

"To Konoha. I visited it once, when I was a boy, but it's been awhile." Another half-truth. He hadn't just visited the village once, he'd lived there. "Would you be willing to show me the way?"

Tiger was silent, but then gestured for the other two ANBU to join him in a slight huddle. They were discussing plans of action, but made sure that he didn't hear them. They were positioned in such a way that all three of them could keep an eye on him. He didn't mind. He actually approved of the paranoia and he understood the need for extreme caution. He too, once upon a time, had been ANBU. But as he sat there waiting for them to finish their inaudible deliberation, a pressing issue popped into his mind.

He needed a name.

He sat there contemplating his options. He'd never really thought of a name for himself before, even when he'd been sent on infiltration missions, always relying on the cover name he'd been provided. But deciding on a name for himself was tricky. He was essentially the same person, although he wasn't sure if that person was even born yet, but he didn't want to use that name in this timeline. It would raise suspicions that would draw unnecessary attention towards him and perhaps his counterpart.

At least, more than his counterpart could effectively deal with at this time.

If his counterpart even existed in this time at all, actually.

So he needed a name. But what would be a good name? What makes a name, anyway? Should he go with the more common names? Or something a little more obscure? Perhaps a name that was similar to his own real name?

And then he remembered, with fondness, a story about his teacher. A smile came unbidden on his face as an idea came to him. It was simple, a little suspicious, but that couldn't be avoided. Especially with the circumstances the ANBU found him in. Yes, it'd have to do.

Tiger stood and motioned for him to follow, the other two ANBU flanking him on each side. It seemed like they were going to be leading him to Konoha after all. Well, it'd have to do. He needed more information anyway and he still hadn't come to a decision whether to stay or go into the wilderness so soon. He'd have to think on it more later, when opportunities became more apparent. For now, he'd just have to follow like the little lost stranger that he was.

* * *

"It just disappeared?"

Sarutobi Hiruzen leveled the Kekkai-Han's commander a steel-eyed look as he clenched his pipe in one hand. He had been in the middle of assigning missions to his ninja when a pale-faced chuunin had come barging in to inform him that the barrier team had detected some kind of anomaly.

"I'm not sure, Hokage-sama, but the fluctuations in the sensing sphere were quite violent awhile ago. I thought it was an attack." replied Susumu.

Hiruzen turned to the stoic ANBU commander in the white cloak, prompting the man for answers.

"I've dispatched a three-man team, Hokage-sama, with orders to investigate and engage if necessary. Should I send reinforcements?" was the quiet reply. Hiruzen shook his head. If Susumu was correct and the distortion was caused by something similar to a bijuu, then there would be no point in sending reinforcements to that team. Rather, he should be preparing to defend his village from an attack. But it didn't make much sense.

There weren't any bijuu, to his knowledge, that could be wandering about aimlessly, let alone in the land of fire. So what could possibly cause that kind of distortion in the sensing sphere?

"Hokage-sama," said Nara Shikaku, the Jounin Commander, "The ANBU team's just returned. They're at the east gate."

"Good, we'll be with them shortly."

* * *

"Report."

At Hiruzen's command, the ANBU team quickly bent down on one knee with one hand on the floor. "Team Tiger was dispatched by the Kekkai-Han to investigate a code black threat level. We were sent to a location approximately three kilometers within the barrier, but when we arrived there were only traces of lingering chakra in the air. The chakra was widely dispersed and we found no obvious sources, not even a trail, Hokage-sama."

"Is there anything else?"

"We found someone in the location, but he claims to have only just arrived to investigate the source of chakra. He didn't see anything else. He said he sensed the chakra from far away"

Hiruzen raised an eyebrow at that. A sensor? "Did he tell you how far away he was when sensed the chakra?"

"No, Hokage-sama, but he said that he was trying to find the way to Konoha, but that he'd gotten lost."

He turned to his two commanders as Tiger finished the report. "Have all teams stand down, but I want three additional teams to assist team Tiger. Tiger, you are to lead the other teams to the site and conduct further investigations there and its immediate surroundings. Shikaku, avail our guest some of Konoha's hospitality, I'll be meeting with him soon."

* * *

He followed the Jounin Commander to the Hokage Tower's visitor's lounge, a place where the Hokage entertained guests coming to Konoha. He was immensely grateful for the hood now, because when he saw the scarred face of the man who was supposed to escort him, he almost beamed in recognition. It didn't really confirm what timeline he was in, but he had a rough idea at least.

When they entered the room, Shikaku immediately had someone prepare tea and some snacks, meanwhile eyeing him from his spot in the couch across him.

It was a little unnerving to be seated in front of a man known to be Nara Shikamaru's father. He was reputed to be one of Konoha's most intelligent strategist and tactician, with his son, Nara Shikamaru, becoming a prodigy in that regard, too. If it hadn't been for the two Naras strategies, the war would've been lost a lot sooner than he was prepared for.

And he wouldn't have been able to make it here.

Although he was immensely please and grateful to the man and his son, he couldn't allow Shikaku to figure out who he was. At least, not so early in the game. He needed to keep a healthy distance from everyone, unless he wanted to be discovered. And that would raise questions he'd be too uncomfortable to deal with.

This man before him was a veritable genius and could easily connect the dots, even though the circumstances of his arrival would be mysterious, he'd find out quickly the holes in the inevitable story he was about to weave for the Hokage.

He couldn't allow that. So he needed to put up a mask of careful indifference, not to alienate the people around him, but to allow them to know that he was there, but uninteresting. And that was if he decided to stay in Konoha.

Then he remembered his appearance. Well, he'd come to that when he got there.

And with great timing, the door to the lounge area opened to reveal a man that stopped his heart at the very sight of him and his Hokage robes and hat.

Sandaime Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen.

His heart thudded in his chest in pure happiness at seeing that old, wrinkly face again after so long. His memories of the man were always fond, filled with warm and guiding hand on his shoulder or on top of his head. Always ready with a smile, this man had been.

This man will be.

Because at that moment, he swore to himself and to all his sacrifices that he would never allow any harm to come to this man, his first ever hero.

Of course, none of these feelings of fondness and joy translated to his body language. He was well-trained after all. And he had a poker face like the best of them, features-hiding cloak not withstanding.

The old man Sandaime greeted him with a smile as he and Shikaku both stood and offered bows.

"Please, sit, sit," Sandaime said, motioning for them both while he took a seat beside Shikaku. He realized then, that the smile the Sandaime was sending him was not a smile he remembered seeing being directed at him at all. It was polite, but with so very little warmth it might as well be cold and calculating.

With a pang in his heart, he realized that he was just a stranger here, in this time, and that he had no real place among the living. He belonged with the dead and soon, once he'd accomplished his mission, he'd return to them. But that didn't mean he couldn't give his counterpart the chance to enjoy this old man's warmth a little longer.

His heart hardened with his resolve, he pushed onward.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Hokage-sama," he said, bowing once more to the old man.

"It was nothing," the Hokage trailed off, eyeing him expectantly.

"Ah, my name is Hayashi Menma, Hokage-sama. Pleased to meet you." he bowed again.

"You too, Hayashi-san. I am Sarutobi Hiruzen and this is Nara Shikaku."

"Pleased to meet you, Nara-san." He bowed towards Shikaku. He wondered if he'd ever bowed so many times in one day before, because if hadn't then surely this would be some kind of new record for him.

"Likewise, Hayashi-san."

"Now," at this the Hokage got to the business at hand. "My shinobi said that you wanted to come to Konoha. Have you come to sample what we have to offer? Or are you here to sightsee?"

"No, Hokage-sama."

"Then why visit a hidden village, Hayashi-san?"

"My master took me here once, for the chuunin exams, a long time ago. I wanted to see what it was like before I continued my journey."

"Hmm. It's a beautiful village, isn't it? I can understand why you'd want to come here."

"Very, Hokage-sama."

"You mentioned a master, are you trained? In the ninja arts, I mean."

"Yes, Hokage-sama. My master used to be a shinobi, but learned to love travelling. He trained me as best he could before we parted ways."

"Where is your master now?"

"He's dead."

There was a contemplative silence in the air as he said this. His heart clenched once again at having reminded himself how his sensei had died. There wasn't even a body to bury, just a legacy of literature and techniques that he'd tried hard to learn, if only to keep some part of his sensei alive in him.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Hayashi-san," said the Hokage.

"He died to protect me," he replied. It took some effort not blurt 'Konoha', but he managed. "It was years ago."

"I see. So what do you intend to do, now that you're here in Konoha?"

And here it was. The golden opportunity. Should he stay or should he go?

Would it interfere with his mission too much? He doubted it. But was he ready to see the faces of people he'd known for years? Probably not. But it was worth the painful reminder to see them happy again, right? Yes.

"Hokage-sama," he started, not really sure how the Hokage would react to his request. It was spur of the moment after all. And he was, of course, a stranger with unknown abilities, unaffiliated with any hidden village, and had no background whatsoever. Would the Hokage trust him? He'd just have to wing it, he supposed. "I request permission to join your hidden village."

Shikaku and the Hokage shared a glance. What silent conversation passed between them, he didn't know. He was just hoping that he'd be given the chance.

"Hayashi-san, you do realize what it is you're asking of the Hokage, right?" this time it was Shikaku who spoke. "We'd have to test you psychologically and physically. It's not a very pleasant experience."

He nodded. He'd been a loyal Konoha shinobi before, after all, so he knew what it was his request would entail.

"And what about this journey you mentioned? Being a shinobi of Konoha means you might have to abandon it."

And then his heart almost stopped. His journey? Should he tell them his mission, then?

"I assure you, Nara-san, Hokage-sama, that my journey can wait." And maybe here is where my journey will end.

The Hokage sat there, silent, eyes boring into him as if seeing through him and into his very soul.

He'd always hated that about the old man.

But he'd loved him for it, too.

"I see. Well, Hayashi-san, I'll have Shikaku help you prepare the forms necessary for your integration into Konoha's shinobi forces."

He stood and bowed, then turned to follow Shikaku outside.

* * *

"Good morning, my name is Yamanaka Izumi and I'll be asking you a few questions, nothing too hard. Just the basics." She smiled at him at her little joke as she sat down.

He kept his face carefully blank as he looked at the jounin before him. He knew why this kunoichi was chosen to conduct the psychological evaluation, he approved of it, but it didn't make the prospect of having someone go through his memories very pleasant or welcome. He knew what members of the Yamanaka clan were capable of, he'd worked with them back in his time, and he knew that whatever subtle techniques this woman dared on him would fail.

He'd been trained by the best of them and had never broken before.

"Alright, so," said Izumi as she scanned the piece of paper on her desk. "Hayashi-san. I was informed that you want to join Konoha as a shinobi? Could you tell me why?"

He nodded. If his suspicions were correct, he'd have to paint himself in the most harmless manner possible to allow him to integrate with the rest of Konoha seamlessly. He needed to be careful, though, because he knew that this question was simply one of many opening moves to allow the Yamanaka a glance at his mind. He decided that a combination of half-truths were better than an outright lie, but if the Yamanaka actually decided to use her clan's jutsu on him... well.

"It was spur of the moment. When my master took me in we never really stayed in one place too long, just moving from village to village and doing the odd ninja work or two for some food and a place to sleep. Ever since he died, I've been thinking of settling down and I've heard good things about Konoha. So here I am."

"I've heard of training trips like that, but you sound like you've done it for a long time."

"Since I was twelve, actually. He taught me as much as he could about how to be a ninja."

"I see. It was just the two of you? No one else?"

"For as long as I can remember. Although we did make a few friends in some of the places we visited, but no one ever came with us or visit us. We traveled everywhere, actually."

"And the places that you've been to, were they nice?"

"Not always. Some places were out of the way and we kept to ourselves even when we were doing a job."

"Hmm, tell me more about the jobs you did."

And so the interview continued. It was nothing too personal or specific, mostly general questions about his life on the road and the places he'd been to. It was certainly odd, because at no point during the conversation did the Yamanaka ever even seem to think of using her clan jutsu on him. It was like she was just interviewing someone without a hint of suspicion. He'd been asked a few names of the places he visited and he always answered honestly, because those were indeed places that he and his master had gone to, but it was a little unnerving that he was being treated so cordially.

Why was his appearance and sudden want to become a Konoha shinobi not attract a more thorough investigation into his identity? He could have been implanted as a long-term sleeper agent, but they didn't seem to mind or even think of the possibility.

"Thank you, Hayashi-san. Please follow me, I'll be leading you to your physical evaluation."

At a loss, he bowed to Yamanaka Izumi and followed her. Things were surprisingly easy so far, but he couldn't let down his guard because he could feel his gut churning. Something wasn't right and he didn't know what. Where was the suspicion and the paranoia? Where was the security?

And what was worse was the question: _why didn't she use her clan jutsu?_

* * *

"For the sake of thoroughness, I'm going to have to ask you to change into this," the man said, handing him a simple white robe. "Once you're done we can begin the evaluation."

He stared at the man, silently asking if he should change right then and there, but received no reponse. Holding any further comment inside, he took off his cloak and slowly worked on removing all article of clothing on his person. All under the other man's careful scrutiny.

With practised ease, he ignored the look and finally managed to get into the robe he'd been offered. He'd gotten over his own shyness a long time ago, but he didn't really know what to expect with his appearance. Before his trip back in time, he'd been told on numerous occasions how much alike his father he looked like: the same blond hair and the same blue eyes, save for the possession marks on each cheek.

When he looked into the mirror, he was both shocked and relieved at what he saw.

Now, that blond hair had turned black and his eyes had become mismatched. His right eye was a deep, blood red, while his left eye remained blue. The possession marks were entirely absent. He surmised that it might have been due to the payment he'd made to get to this time, but at least he didn't actually have to apply a henge all of the time.

He felt a pang of something he couldn't quite identify as he inspected his visage, but he supposed that he could breathe a little more easily. He didn't think he could maintain a henge at all times throughout the day, especially since he didn't know where he was in terms of chakra. This outward change in him was regrettable, a constant reminder of what he'd become and what he'd done to deserve it, but he couldn't really help but use it to his advantage.

"Let's begin, shall we?" said the man, finally letting himself known once again from his silent vigil.

* * *

After all the tests had been finished, he found himself facing Shikaku in his office, robed in his cloak once more.

"Allow me to explain a few things before we continue," said the Jounin Commander. "The preliminary tests were all done in order to provide us the basic information required to establish your identity in the village. Since you're new, the results from the tests will serve as your background and history. Is that clear?"

He nodded. He'd assumed as much halfway into his physical exam, but the nagging feeling that something was wrong was as strong as ever. He still couldn't identify what it was that was bothering him, but it certainly put him on edge.

"So far, all of the tests have returned positive results."

The declaration was somewhat surprising, in that he didn't even know there was supposed to be positive or negative about the result for each test. The implications were a bit lost on him, but he decided to remain quiet, hoping that Shikaku would either elaborate or further the conversation. Given enough time, he might be able to guess at what those implications were and how they were made, but he didn't want to do that in the presence of someone who literally thought faster than he did.

"We can definitely proceed," said Shikaku, glancing at the pages on his table from time to time while making his own notes. "I'll need to ask you a few more questions and then we can go ahead to the final test for the day. It will help us gauge your ability and skill and decide on your placement. Now, of the three main ninja disciplines, what is your proficiency?"

He stared at the man before him, thinking of what to reply. In truth, he was a well rounded shinobi when it came to the three ninja arts: ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu. Though he'd had a terrible time learning the last one, the circumstances from before had forced him to learn and learn quickly. He was actually very powerful, but he didn't want them to know, not yet at least.

"I would say my greatest strength is ninjutsu. And fuuinjutsu." He added the last bit hastily as he realized that just saying his specialty was ninjutsu was too vague and a little too common for Shikaku to make a recommendation to place him as jounin. He needed to attain a rank higher than chuunin so that he could be privy to _some_ information around the village. Not that he was expecting to be invited to all of the important meetings, but the rank would allow him some freedom of movement, too.

And then he could use his most treasured technique.

Shikaku regarded him with faint disbelief. "Fuuinjutsu? Are you a master?"

"Hardly, I still have a long way to go before I can call myself one, if ever."

"I see."

"Is there anything else?"

"Do you know what your elemental affinity is?"

"It's wind."

"Alright. Genma, Raidou, please come in."

At Shikaku's command, the door to his office opened and entered two shinobi he'd last seen dying on the battlefield, their bodies torn to bloody pieces.

"Allow me to introduce Shiranui Genma and Namiashi Raidou. They will be the ones to assess your combat abilities today."

He bowed, stiffly, to the two. "Pleased to meet you, Shiranui-san, Namiashi-san. My name is Hayashi Menma."

"A new guy, huh? Well, follow us, we'll be heading to training ground 13 for your combat skills assessment. Will the Hokage be joining us, Shikaku-sama?" Genma said, senbon hanging off his mouth.

Shikaku nodded. "I'll go and inform the Hokage. Please show Hayashi-san the way."

With another stiff bow to the Jounin Commander, he followed the two jounin towards the training ground.

* * *

As they walked, he couldn't help but feel the looks of several ninja and villagers at the back of his head. He easily ignored them, long used to it, but he noted that the looks were more curious than anything. So maybe the black, hooded cloak did a lot to conceal his features and add to his mystery? He didn't care. They'd be seeing his face soon enough.

What intrigued him though was the prospect of the combat evaluation. He needed to know just how he was faring in terms of strength and stamina. He didn't know just how much his trip cost him in terms of chakra, so this was a good opportunity to find out.

"How do you find Konoha so far, Hayashi-san?" asked Raidou, a few paces in front of him.

"It's as beautiful as I remember it, Namiashi-san."

"So you've been here before?" asked Genma.

"Yes, my master brought me here once, a long time ago."

"Well, I hope you're no slouch, Hayashi-san, I've been meaning to get a decent work out all week." said Genma, hands in his pockets. "You know what they say, a ninja has to be on top of his game, always."

Raidou scoffed. "You're just saying that because you've got no one to spar with."

"Well it's not my fault you can't keep up, maybe you should put in some more training."

"Please, coming from the teammate of Konoha's greatest training nut? No, thanks."

He was pleasantly surprised at the ease these two shinobi in front of him had in their banter. He'd always know that they were some of the most relaxed ninja in Konoha, but to do this in front of a total unknown? It spoke volumes of their confidence in their skills.

"What do you think, Hayashi-san? Don't you agree?" asked Genma, turning his head slightly to regard him with an inquistive look. "You'll be a Konoha shinobi in a matter of hours, might as well have an opinion on training, right?"

"Please, call me Menma, and I do agree that training is always good for a shinobi."

Genma grinned at him. "Then you can call me Genma, Menma-kun. I'm not that big on formalities either."

"You can call me Raidou, too."

"Thank you, Genma-san, Raidou-san."

They arrived at training ground 13, with Shikaku and the Hokage already there. There were others attending, too, such as Morino Ibiki and Yamanaka Inoichi. The two new additions were wearing the black trench coats of their positions as members of the T&I division, Torture and Interrogation.

Interesting. The feeling that something was wrong finally seemed to have reached a breaking point. Were they actually regarding him with the suspicion and paranoia that had been entirely absent throughout the day? Did they finally come to the conclusion that he was a spy? Were they finally going to try to invade his mind?

Unseen by all, he smiled. He'd like to see them try.

"Good to see you again, Hayashi-san. How has your day been so far?" asked the Hokage.

"Very good. Thank you for asking, Hokage-sama."

"This is Morino Ibiki and Yamanaka Inoichi," the Hokage gestured to the two men, "they will be assisting us in your evaluation."

He turned to the two T&I ninja and bowed. "Pleased to meet you both."

Ibiki nodded, narrow eyes trying to pierce through the shadows of his hood, while Inoichi gave him a bland smile, no doubt already trying to pick apart his mental defenses from a distance. Already he could feel the faint stirrings in the air, the tiny pinpoint fluctuations in the chakra around him, and the slight thrum of power from within his core that signaled the beginnings of a jutsu, but it felt off somehow and the niggling feeling in his head continued.

"Alright, Genma and Raidou will be your opponents. The point of this evaluation is for us to assess what your skill level is so that we can determine what rank to give you. Please remember, all of you, that this is an evaluation. So no holds barred, but no grievous injuries either. Understood?" said Shikaku.

"Until we call the match," Shikaku gave him a scroll, "you are to keep this safe from them. Keep it visible at all times and make sure that _nothing_ happens to the scroll. Genma, Raidou, assume starting positions."

When the two shinobi had positioned themselves on either side of him, he threw off his cloak, revealing his form for the first time to this particular audience.

He wore a black v-necked shirt tucked in standard black pants, which were wrapped with black elastic bandage from his shins towards his ankles. He had on a pair of black sandals and black armbands that looped around his palm and snaked towards his biceps. On top of the armbands were belts of leather that started from his knuckles and looped around his arms. On each belt were a series of spikes pointed outwards, with spikes on each knuckle.

He had a weapon holster situated near his right hip and a shuriken holster tied around his left thigh with a similar red belt found on his arms.

Genma whistled at him, eyes wide. "You look mean."

He smiled, fixing the scroll to his back. "Thank you."

"Shinobi kumite," said Shikaku, positioned far enough away just to be heard and safe from any line of fire.

"Hajime!"

The attack was simultaneous. Genma spat out his senbon as soon as Shikaku had jumped and was already charging in low, aiming for his legs.

Raidou, on the other hand, had circled to flank him from behind and had already unleashed a barrage of kunai.

His arm lashed out and caught the senbon in midair, before throwing it back at Genma and clapping his hands together.

"Fuuton: Repuushou."

He raised both hands to release a gale of wind to divert the incoming kunai away from before he stepped back and threw his own kunai into the gust. Seeing Raidou deflect all of his kunai, he turned to Genma and raised his hand to catch the coming kick to his head. Gripping the sandaled foot firmly he lashed out with a kick of his own while his other hand want to grab onto Genma's upraised thigh.

Genma blocked his kick, but was unprepared to be lifted off the ground only to be slammed back down again. Before he could deliver a fatal blow, Raidou pounced on him, unleashing a flurry of furious attacks to his arms and face. He tried to block as much as he could, but the barrage was unrelenting. He curled slightly, protecting his front and head with his arms, and waited for Raidou's barrage to slow down.

When it did, he unleashed his own barrage, hitting Raidou in the gut before sweeping him off his feet with a leg swoop. He then took a kunai in each hand and then renewed his previous exchange with Genma. With the kunai in each of his hands, he took care not cause too much undue injury, but Genma's arms were slowly being filled with minor cuts before he jumped away to gain some distance.

At this point, Raidou had recovered and was palming shuriken on both hands. A sudden feeling of lightheadedness then seemed to take over his mind. He barely held in a snarl, but whirled around searching for the source.

With a look from Genma, Raidou threw the shuriken at a wide angle, hoping to cut off any effective means of escape. He pumped as much chakra into his legs as possible and jumped away. He threw a smoke bomb into the ground as he landed and ducked low. When the area was filled with smoke, he took the time to analyze the situation.

One, he couldn't use many of his signature techniques because he wasn't supposed to know them. Two, Raidou and Genma had flawless teamwork, it was challenging trying to get into their guard without one trying to snatch the scroll. Three, something was trying to interfere with his evaluation. He needed to think, but with the two shinobi clearly giving it their best, he wasn't going to be able to do so any time soon.

The other two were done waiting for him, apparently, as they bombarded his position with several shuriken. He leaped out of the way and threw even more smoke bombs around him. He carefully let his chakra flare from his body and felt a resonance coming from just in front of him and to the side. He pinpointed their position despite the smoke and withdrew a scroll from his weapons pouch. This test, he realized, was like an important courier mission where the enemies would try to either retrieve or destroy the scroll and the information contained within.

Usually when outnumbered the best tactic would be to run away as quickly as possible, however it wasn't an option when caught in an ambush, as this test was simulating. So what to do? He needed to stop the pursuit and the only to do that would be to incapacitate or kill his pursuers, in this case: Raidou and Genma.

Nodding to himself, he began to perform the hand signs for his next technique. He gathered his chakra, inhaled, and exhaled a mighty gale of wind towards one of the two shinobi he'd pinpointed. The gale was so strong it dissipated the smoke around him but also caught Raidou, incidentally, by surprise. It lifted the man off his feet and sent him past the tree line.

As the scarred jounin was whisked away by his jutsu, he barreled into Genma and entered into a vicious bout of taijutsu. Genman delivered an axe kick to his chest, which he easily redirected to his side before he lashed out with a kunai. His blade sliced a shallow cut on the man's neck as Genma tried to move away as quickly as he could. Giving him no recourse, he flipped the kunai in the air, which he grabbed with his other hand and then proceeded to riddle the jounin's vest with shallow cuts.

He shoved the supposed-to-be dead shinobi and jumped away, flipping the kunai once again to his other hand, eyes locked on the area he'd sent Raidou to. Suddenly, the feeling returned, stronger than ever and he chanced a glance towards Genma who seemed to have sat down on the ground in defeat and was cradling his chin on his hand. Then his gaze slowly traveled towards the Hokage and the other judges, remaining particularly on Inoichi. At this distance he wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but the Yamanaka clan head seemed to be breathing hard.

Could it be?

The surroundings seemed to distort for some reason and he instinctively held up his kunai-wielding hand close to his neck, somehow blocking an obsidian-black blade that seemingly materialized out of thin air. He could feel a pressure on the scroll strapped to his back and immediately slammed his head backwards and into Raidou's face.

The jounin staggered in shock and pain before he was once again swept off his feet by a wind jutsu.

He looked at Raidou land gracelessly into a heap a few meters away from him, staring at the black blade that had almost cut a line onto his neck. He knew of the special properties of Raidou's sword: poison of an extreme nature was infused into the blade, making it a perfect weapon for assassination or for making sure an enemy stayed dead.

Had he been a second too late he might have died. He concentrated once again on his chakra and slowly began forming hand seals quickly. As he performed the requisite seals, he mentally assessed his own skills and chakra so far. He wasn't panting, which was good, but already he could feel a kind of strain developing on his body, which was not so good.

It seemed to him that he needed a bit more rest before he could resume active physical activity like this one.

"Fuuton: Zekkyoukaminari no jutsu."

Slowly the air around him began to swirl violently, whipping his hair wildly. As he finished the last set of hand seals he brought a hand up and made a chopping motion, just a few meters shy of Raidou's actual position. The ground cracked and exploded from the force of his technique, spraying rock and dust and other debris into the surrounding area, some even getting into Raidou's hair and eyes. The explosion of wind left a deep crater into the ground and carried an unearthly howl.

Just in time for Shikaku to call the match.

Genma and Raidou stood up, dusting themselves off in the process before bowing in recognition of his skills.

"You throw a mean punch, Menma," said Genma.

"It's not the first time I've been told that, actually," he replied. You said that to me too, during the chuunin exams. But that was a long time ago, in a future that wasn't and will never be, ever again.

"That was certainly an impressive jutsu," Raidou said, eyeing the crater and imagining the damage had the jutsu actually struck.

He bowed to his opponents. "Thank you for the match."

"Thank you for the match," they both said, bowing in return.

They straightened when the Hokage and the others approached them, the old man's eyes darting briefly toward the damaged area and then returning towards him.

"It was a very good display of skill I'll admit."

He bowed, and presented the scroll in its pristine condition. "Your scroll, Hokage-sama."

"Thank you for keeping it safe, Hayashi-san, consider it a mission accomplished. Now, with regards to your placement, you claimed to specialize in fuuinjutsu, could you please demonstrate?"

He nodded and pulled out a scroll. "Hokage-sama, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to demonstrate to you my specialty, but I believe that this will be enough for now. In my hands is a storage scroll that I created for certain situations." He stepped back, holding the scroll in front of him as he did so. "Please attack me with your most powerful Katon jutsu, Hokage-sama."

The Hokage widened his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir, I'm very proud of what I've created and I'm willing to bet my life on it."

With grim determination, he stood fast on the spot, eyes gazing the the Hokage as the old man began a series of hand seals.

"Katon: Gouryuuka no jutsu!"

As the Hokage breathed a stream of fire, a larger-than-life dragon head formed an charged straight towards him. The heat and power of the jutsu were overwhelming, to be expected from the man once called the God of Shinobi, but he was confident that his scroll would be more than a match for the jutsu. He'd tested it in battle on numerous occasions. It had never failed before.

With precious few seconds to spare, he unrolled the scroll with a flick of his hand and braced himself for the coming impace. "Fuuin!"

Just as the first licks of flame touched the parchment, the jutsu stopped in its advance. Suddenly, tendrils of black shot out from within the scroll and swirled around the dragon head and greedily pulled it in. Within moments, the dragon head was swallowed and he remained standing, his scroll rolling itself and a single symbol for 'fire' appearing on it.

"This allows my scroll to not only absorb the jutsu, but augment it and redirect it with my own chakra," he said, forming the tiger hand seal with his hands, the scroll tucked carefully by his thumbs to the sides of his hands. He pushed chakra into the scroll and flung his hands upward, a fiery dragon head ten times larger than before burst out of the scroll roaring into the sky. It traveled a fair distance upward, making for a grand spectacle, before exploding and ultimately dissipating into the air.

He gazed at the Hokage, his grandfather once upon a time, and waited for a reaction. Sarutobi Hiruzen was transfixed watching the sky where moments before a dragon head had been sailing like some out-of-proportion firework of great destructive capability. The old man returned his gaze after a few moments of contemplative silence and gave him a smile.

"Well, that is without question a very good demonstration. I think you very well deserve the rank of jounin, you certainly displayed enough skill to impress us"

He bowed, not knowing what to say. One part of him was glad to hear these words from the first Hokage he'd ever served under, and another part of him felt relieved that he'd reattained his previous rank so easily, but a bigger part of him felt uneasy with such an easy promotion. He didn't work as hard as before, but it felt like cheating.

"Please come to the Hokage tower to take your oath and receive your standard-issue hitai-ate."

At that, they all bowed to the Hokage as he left training ground 13, Shikaku, Inoichi, and Ibiki following him closely.

"Congratulations, Menma, and welcome to Konoha, for real this time." said Genma, smiling. "And I mean it though, you really do pack a mean punch."

* * *

"... and so may the Will of Fire guide me."

The Hokage stared down at him from behind the desk as he finished swearing his oath. It was something he luckily remembered from his time, so he didn't need as much help in memorizing the whole piece. With a slight gesture from the Hokage, he rose to his full height but stared straight ahead and out the window that overlooked the majority of the village.

The old man Hokage regarded him for a few moments before sliding a wooden box towards him. With a nod, he gently took the box into his hands and opened it, revealing the Konoha hitai-ate in black cloth. He traced the leaf symbol engraved on the metal plate, holding back the tears. It had been years since he'd held something like this, his original lost to the ravages of war.

An overwhelming sense of peace and belonging then filled him to his core. This was where he belonged. With his people, his Hokage, his -

He stopped that thought, horrified. Had he already forgotten his vow? He could never replace those people he'd lost, even if in this timeline they were all alive and healthy. He pushed back the feelings of betrayal, acceptance, acknowledgement, and horror deep down his mind and buried them with all the strength of his willpower.

He would not forget his mission, he would not forget his sacrifice, he would not forget.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama," he murmured. The Hokage caught the edge of loneliness in his tone, but mistook it for gratefulness, which in part it was but was mostly anger at himself for already falling into the temptation of the prospect of getting close to his friends.

The old man nodded. "Of course, even though I've accepted your oath and you are now considered a jounin of Konoha, there are certain conditions that you have to meet before we can allow you any sort of freedom. I hope you can understand."

"Of course, Hokage-sama. It's to be expected. I'm a complete stranger. It would be extremely foolish to allow me to handle anything of a sensitive nature."

"Good. Well, as you may well already know, due to the circumstances of your arrival we can't allow you free access to the village proper without an escort. So for the time being, I am assigning you someone to be your caretaker for the next few months."

He didn't like the sound of that. It had taken every bit of self control he had not to have broken down when he sighted the old man Hokage yesterday and all the other ghosts from his past. What if the person the Hokage had assigned to him was someone especially close? In preparation he began the mental exercises he was taught for resisting torture. He knew that whoever it was would have to be extremely skilled and his chances of sneaking around had just gotten dim.

"He's an accomplished shinobi, one of our best, and he's just recently returned from his latest mission. I think you'll like him, although he's not without his eccentricities."

Okay, that sounded bad, he definitely didn't like what he was hearing.

"He's also very recognizable, so I'm sure you won't find it difficult remembering him."

He closed his eyes in terrified anticipation. There was really only one Konoha shinobi who could be called recognizable. And it's because of all the green.

"He'll be the one to show you around today and help get you settled in to your new apartment. I think you'll enjoy the accommodations, even if the building is a little old."

The door turned and he glanced back with trepidation. When he saw the all-too familiar slouch, the skewed hitai-ate, the face mask, he knew that his earlier assumption was wrong. Very, very, very wrong.

This person was the worst that could have walked through the door.

"Please, allow me to introduce to you..."

Hatake Kakashi.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thank you for taking the time to read the first chapter of my story, The Stranger In Black. If you have any questions, suggestions, or constructive criticism please leave a review. I'm using Wordpad, so if there are any issues when it comes to grammar or spelling, please point it out.

 **Jutsu:**  
 _Fuuton: Repuushou_ \- Wind Release: Gale Palm  
 _Fuuton: Zekkyokaminari no jutsu_ \- Wind Release: Screaming Thunder  
 _Katon: G_ _ou_ _ry_ _uu_ _ka no Jutsu_ \- Fire Release: Great Dragon Fire Technique

 **Terms:**  
 _Hitai-ate_ \- forehead protector  
 _Kekkai-Han_ \- Barrier team  
 _Iryounin_ \- medic ninja  
 _Taichou_ \- leader/captain

 **Edited: 9/27/2015**  
Redid the testing phase, expanded the fighting scenes, removed/changed some dialogue, added more to his skills, did more character and plot development, minor grammar spelling/edits.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Stranger In Black**

Chapter 02

* * *

"Well?"

Sarutobi Hiruzen looked at the people gathered before him with a steel-cold glint in his eyes. He had just finished briefing Konoha's newest jounin an hour ago and was now waiting for the _real_ results of the day's evaluations. He focused his steely gaze at Nara Shikaku, silently demanding answers.

The Jounin Commander gestured to the two jounin a pace behind him and said, "Yamanaka Izumi-san and Shinya Hideo-san were the ones who conducted the psychological and physical evaluations. Hideo-san, please tell us of your findings."

The gruff-looking jounin stepped forward and bowed deeply to the Hokage. "Hokage-sama, I conducted the physical evaluation for Hayashi Menma as per instructions from Nara-sama. Hayashi-san is in very good health with larger than normal chakra capacity. Blood samples taken returned negative on all tests for diseases, toxins, and other pathogens. No evidence of reconstructive surgery or appearance-altering seals were found on his person. No identifying scars or marks either. Point of interest are his eyes, one red and the other blue, that does not suggest that it's a product of a kekkei genkai. In other words, Hokage-sama, he's clean."

Finished with his report, Hideo stepped back and glanced at the Yamanaka beside him, which she saw as her cue to report. She stepped forward and bowed, as deep as Hideo had done, and began, "Sir, as per instructions by the Jounin Commander I conducted the evaluation on Hayashi Menma following clan and village protocol on unknown ninja. I asked him a series of questions, mundane things really, that a spy would have trouble answering unless he's invested a great deal of time in learning about them. I was able to confirm that he's been around Hi no Kuni in his travels with his master before reaching Konoha, he was able to give out significant landmarks and apt descriptions of the towns and villages they encountered. No hesitation, no evasion. He's remarkably honest, sir."

"Is that all?" asked Hiruzen, fingers steepled on his desk. Izumi shook her head.

"During the course of the interview I tried to apply a combination of genjutsu and my clan's jutsu to get a brief look at his mind," she shook her head again, this time as if from a memory. "It was... difficult, sir. I wasn't able to get a good read at all, not even surface emotions that would usually be there on the forefront of our minds. All I got for my efforts were some kind of static and an echo of my own thoughts, which is why I made the recommendation for Inoichi-sama to take over that part of the evaluation for me." She glanced at her clan head then stepped back behind Shikaku.

"Thank you, Izumi-san, Hideo-san, you may return to your duties," said Hiruzen and the two jounin left the office at his command. "The psych eval doesn't seem very promising. Inoichi, Shikaku requested that you and Ibiki join us for the skills assessment, what did you find?"

"Ibiki was supposed to apply a multi-layered genjutsu to allow me to use some of my clan's more intrusive jutsu, however we encountered... problems," said the Yamanaka, turning to Ibiki who was shaking his head. "The combination of genjutsu and his concentration on the battle against two jounin has proven to be very effective in giving my clan jutsu time to work, however his concentration never faltered and the genjutsu kept failing."

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean the genjutsu failed?" During the course of that battle he had never seen Menma pause to dispel any genjutsu that might have ensnared his senses. It had seemed he had put all of his focus on his objective throughout the entire assessment.

Ibiki shook his head ruefully. "None of the genjutsu that I know of worked, Hokage-sama."

"Not even your special genjutsu?" asked Shikaku, baffled by the idea that Morino Ibiki's genjutsu would fail.

"I use that genjutsu for interrogations, it's too forceful to be used for what we had in mind, but even then I don't think it would have worked. The only genjutsu that might work are kekkei genkai ones, specifically the sharingan, but we don't have many Uchiha to spare, do we?"

Hiruzen sighed. Immunity to genjutsu was unheard of, even the strongest ninja with the most brutal of conditioning fell to it from time to time. He couldn't think of any ninja, alive or dead, who simply were not affected. Not even the Hyuuga's prized byakugan was completely immune. Perhaps Ibiki was correct, that the Uchiha's sharingan might have an effect, but with what had happened so many years ago, there simply weren't any who could use the kekkei genkai.

The sole survivor had yet to awaken his eyes, but maybe Kakashi...

"Despite all that, sir, I _was_ able to get into his mind, if only for a moment," said Inoichi. "It was definitely something that I've never encountered before, I'll be checking on my clan's archives for any instances as I've encountered, but it was definitely new. It took almost all the chakra I had before I was able to get out."

"Explain."

"There isn't much to explain. It's a complete void, no memories, no persona, nothing. It felt like I was floating in darkness. It felt like I was dying." Inoichi looked ashamed by the admission and averted his eyes.

The room fell silent for a moment, each person pondering on the gravity of Inoichi's words. The whole reason for the tests and the assessment was to find out about this mysterious stranger in black, but all they had were more questions than answers. No one could deny that there was the possibility of someone inventing a jutsu to counter the Yamanaka's, or even genjutsu in general, but such a thing would have turned up at some point before now. Not the specifics, but the fact that there simply existed a jutsu that could prove to be impervious to Konoha's mind-walkers.

Konoha had many enemies who wanted to spy its many secrets, but who wouldn't want to brag about it? Jiraiya needed to be informed so that the spy network could be on the proper lookout for such things.

"We can't rule out the possibility that he's a spy, but we can't rule out that his intentions are genuine," said Shikaku, opening his eyes to look at the faces around him. "I suggest we make proper use of him and his skills. Maybe we could recall Jiraiya-sama to evaluate his fuuinjutsu too, while we're at it."

Hiruzen nodded. "That sounds like a good place to start, but maybe you had something a little more specific?"

The Jounin Commander smiled and said, "Here's what I suggest..."

* * *

Hatake Kakashi.

The name alone brought a multitude of memories back into the forefront of his mind, all others pushed back into some dark corner to be reviewed at a later time. His features froze, all warmth pulled from the surface to be replaced by the cold gaze of the true professional.

He couldn't allow his mask to slip in the presence of Sharingan Kakashi, even when the memories threatened to burst out of his protective facade. He maintained an indifferent gaze, not daring to meet the man's eyes.

The onslaught of memories of the Sandaime were almost unbearable, but coupled with the memories of Kakashi it was almost excruciatingly painful. He could remember, a long time ago, how these two people had guided him into the man he was now. Kakashi with his laidback attitude who nonetheless had fought the hardest alongside him during the war. Kakashi who had pushed him away from the path of a devastating jutsu. Kakashi who had died screaming in agony as his skin burned away.

The Sandaime, his pseudo-grandfather. Kakashi, his pseudo-brother. He mentally applied the exercises meant to strengthen his resolve, reminding himself that these people were strangers to him just as he was to them. They didn't know him or what he'd gone through, even though he knew them from the depths of his heart.

Kakashi was silent as they made their way towards the apartment that had been assigned to him, for which he was grateful. The silver-haired jounin's recalcitrant nature for once soothed him and put him a little at peace. Back then, way before, the man had been annoying and a little nosy, but now his status as total stranger seemed to keep the man from being too friendly.

He forced his mind back to where they were headed and began to notice once-familiar buildings and shops around him. It was through here, once upon a time, that he'd go to get to his home, surely they...

Oh.

He stopped, in the middle of the street with his cloak billowing around his frame, as he realized where they were going.

Kakashi stopped too, a meter ahead of him, and turned to him with his one eye.

He ignored the other jounin. When he'd been a child, he was the only resident in the building his apartment was at because no one had wanted to live anywhere near someone like him. Would-be neighbors had moved out and found other places to call home and soon the little boy that he was had been left alone. Completely.

So what was the Hokage thinking by placing him someone like his counterpart? He could think of a few things: maybe the old man wanted him to befriend the boy, because he was new and would never know anything about the Kyuubi attack? Or was another of the Hokage's tests? If so, what did want to find out by assigning him, a total unknown who had just appeared close to his village a few hours ago, an aparment near a jinchuuriki?

So far, he didn't have enough information to even try to make an educated guess. He bit back a snort as he thought about what his younger self would have done: charge in recklessly and ask questions later. It had been a long time since he'd done that, but it was a good memory. It reminded him of a time when he'd been innocent and so carefree.

But not anymore. Especially now.

"Hayashi-san."

He looked up at Kakashi who was staring at him with a hint of impatience in the single eye. He waved a hand as if dispelling the other man's irritation at the abrupt stop.

"It's nothing, Hatake-san. I was just enjoying the atmosphere, I haven't been in many places as big as this." They continued walking, this time side-by-side, with Kakashi sneaking sidelong glances at him from time to time. He ignored the looks just as he ignored the ones from earlier in the morning. It was afternoon now, but he'd already acclimated to the suspicious and curious glances of the people around him. Kakashi's was no different and was promptly ignored.

As they approached the building he could see that it was in good condition, although it could have used a fresh coat of paint. The building must have been a deep red in color, but now it was a muted rust-brown, with flecks of paint chipped away to reveal the dark gray of the concrete wall. None of the apartments seemed occupied, save one, and he already knew who its sole inhabitant was.

"Prime real estate," he said, not moving from his position. The building was a simple and compact three-floor complex with five apartments for each floor and a stairwell that served as the main entrance for the top two floors. Kakashi gave him a set of keys to choose from and he seemingly chose one at random and set off towards what was to be his living quarters from now on.

He actually chose an apartment only a few doors away from his counterpart, situated right by the stairwell on the second floor. It wouldn't be too suspicious to live three doors away, but at least it should grant him some accessibility to his counterpart if he decided for them to meet and to make sure that no one strayed near the young boy's home too closely. If those strays ever leaked even the barest amount of malevolence towards his counterpart, why, he'd simply have to step in as a duty-bound ninja ought to.

He'd had plenty of experience rounding and cleaning up strays from the streets.

"Hmm," replied Kakashi. "Seems livable enough."

That it was. The apartment was fairly spacious to hold three rooms: a bathroom, a bedroom, and a dining room/kitchen. The kitchen/dining area had a table and chairs enough to accommodate four people with a refrigerator tucked in close to the kitchen counter and sink. The bedroom had a bed and a simple dresser. The bathroom had a toilet, a sink, and a shower area.

It was small, but more than enough.

He wiped his finger across the dresser's surface and inspected it for any dust. There was, but not too much. He'd need to clean it a bit and buy a few more things to make it a little more hospitable, but it would do for his purposes as a base of operations of some sort. He checked the position of the sun outside and decided that he still had time for a little shopping.

* * *

Menma tamped down on his annoyance as much as he could, setting down his purchases on the kitchen table. He'd been to the nearest shop to buy everything he needed to make his apartment seem more like a home, with Kakashi a silent and observant shadow. The man known as the Copycat Ninja simply barged into his apartment like he'd lived there all his life. He could understand that Kakashi was simply following his orders, but he needed the man to _get out_ so that he could finally work on modifying his apartment a little more.

The slight irritation in his nose made him look towards where the other jounin had stalked off to, only to find that Kakashi had taken a seat on one of the chairs with a faint cloud of dust surrounding his slouched form like an aura. Kakashi seemed unperturbed by the dust and elected to watching him sort through his purchases.

Manma sighed. He knew that the one-eyed jounin was simply following his orders, to keep an eye on him, and he'd just have to deal with it for now. He considered it as a test of patience and endurance, two traits that ninja were known for. Ignoring the other presence in the room with him, he began to sort his purchases: for the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, and other necessities. Afterwards, he began to put them away, wiping dust off surfaces as he went.

After some time, he glanced at where the other jounin was and had to bite back a snort of laughter. At some point during the house cleaning, Kakashi had pulled out his favorite book and had begun to leaf through the pages with almost reverent care, his one eye scanning the words with an apparent delight in all things ecchi. _Some things never change_.

Satisfied that his apartment was more or less as dust-free as he could make it, he took a seat opposite of Kakashi and pulled out his ink set with the sumi and suzuri along with a kunai. He pricked his finger with the sharp end of the weapon and began squeezing a drop of blood into the suzuri. After, he poured a touch of water and began grinding the sumi into the wet surface of the suzuri.

The quiet, sure sounds of wood scraping against stone drew Kakashi's attention from the perverted book towards him. He ignored the look, just as he ignored the man's presence altogether, and continued.

"What are you doing?" asked Kakashi, breaking the silence between the two of them as his own curiosity got the better of him at last.

"Making ink," Menma replied, carefully using the sumi to scrape the ink towards the well of the suzuri and adding another touch of water and blood.

"Couldn't you have just bought the ink instead of making it yourself?"

Menma shook his head. "I sometimes do, but I prefer making my own." He didn't comment that making his ink the traditional way allowed him to imbue the substance with his own chakra, which made the ink far more resilient and potent. Blood-infused ink was stronger than any commercially bought ink, far more powerful and dangerous, and the applications were more varied. Back in his time Menma used his special type of ink for a variety of uses, but most of all for inscribing seals meant for securing an area.

In some cases, securing an enemy.

"It's soothing," said Kakashi, eye not leaving the hypnotizing motion of the sumi moving back and forth across the surface of the suzuri. In the quiet of the apartment, away from the din of the village, the scraping sound was almost a lullaby lulling him to sleep. It was a kind of peaceful sound, amplified by the absence of all other sound around them.

"It is," agreed Menma, "It helps me think, sometimes. Kami-sama knows how many times I've had to do this just to keep me from doing something reckless." His eyes, unseen by Kakashi from underneath his cloak, glazed over at remembering the many mistake he'd _almost_ done by being brash and reckless. If it wasn't for his master forcing him to sit down and and make ink, he didn't know if he'd have survived to actually jump through time to today in the past.

He thought back to his master, wondering just where that perverted old coot was at this point in the past. Jiraiya had been kind to him, kinder than most, and taught him what he knew of the fundamentals of fuuinjutsu that had helped him on so many occassions. Which brought up the question: exactly what time was he in?

"Hatake-san," he said, not looking up from grinding his ink, "How long has Hokage-sama held that title?"

Kakashi blinked at him, processing the question, and shrugged. "He's been Hokage for as long as I can remember," he replied, "He's the Sandaime, but there was a time when he had a successor, a Yondaime."

"What happened?"

At the quiet question, Kakashi's eyes glazed over as if he was immersed in a distant memory. "He died. Almost 12 years ago now."

Ah, that confirms it, Menma thought. His counterpart was twelve years old now, or soon will be, and would be trying to pass the Academy exam to become a genin. Internally, he sighed at the little time he would have should he decide to meet his counterpart and impart some _words of wisdom_ to the boy. He had hoped that he'd arrived earlier, perhaps a year or two before now, in order to gradually meet the boy and try to become a... friend, of some sort. But with the shortened time-frame before the genin exam, he didn't know if he could manage to befriend the boy without attracting the attention of the Hokage. Some drastic measures would need to be taken to ensure that they meet soon.

He noted the faraway look on Kakashi's face and decided that maybe he should bring the man's attention back to the present. Lingering on the past was never a good idea if one wanted to move on, although he probably wasn't one to talk since he actually jumped through time to do something about the past. He was aware, even back then, that Kakashi had been a student of his father's and had grown to respect and admire the man, but he knew that the soon-to-be jounin sensei needed to bring his focus back to the present to be any kind of use for the village and the future.

He paused in his grinding, inspecting the ink that had pooled in the well of the suzuri and judged it fit for his purposes, before he took off the cloak that obscured his features from everyone, Kakashi included. He draped the cloak over the chair he'd just vacated and took a set of brushes along with the suzuri, moving towards his apartment door.

He paused for a few moments, mentally sketching out the design he wanted, nodded, and got to work.

"Were you close? With the Yondaime Hokage, I mean," said Menma, gently applying the brush against the wooden surface of the door. He received a grunt in response. He took it as an affirmative.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he continued, strokes never breaking rhythm, "you must have been really close." He didn't care if he was being improper, but he needed to make sure that Kakashi understood a very important lesson that the man had taught him when Menma was younger. He would have broken it to the man as gently as possible, but he didn't really have much time to do so and he didn't think he had the patience any more for it either.

"But I remember my master telling me that the dead don't really die, at least not completely, because they live on in the lives they touched, in the memories of the living that they left behind," finishing a circle of characters that made up the base of the seal Menma turned to look at Kakashi, gauging his reaction. None so far.

"I never really understood it before, because I was just a kid and my master thought he was a sage of wisdom or something, but I think that he meant that the living who knew the deeds and actions of the dead were lucky because they got to _know_ them before they died."

At that, Menma saw Kakashi flinch ever so slightly. "It's the memories that the living and the dead share that makes whoever died live on, at least in the minds of those left behind."

Then he turned around to his work and continued, "For the lucky ones, they would have shared a great deal of many memories, but then there are the not-so-lucky ones who never even know what happened at all."

He was hinting at his counterpart rather heavily, but he felt that Kakashi needed to realize that he was lucky to have remember the Yondaime at all, while Menma could remember nothing, having grown up alone and without parents to take care of him. A pang of bitterness in his heart reminded Menma that although Kakashi had been his father's student, the man had never even made his presence known to him before they met that fateful day in the academy. Kakashi had been too busy wallowing in his self-pity to realize that there was a little boy who didn't have the pleasure of having a memory of his father, or someone even close to becoming one. The Sandaime had been there, for fleeting moments, but until Menma had become a genin, Kakashi had been a no-show in his childhood.

Forcing the bitterness away from his heart, Menma continued drawing the seal as if nothing happened. He could feel in the background Kakashi turning away from him, either from shame or anger he didn't really know. He just hoped that Kakashi would be... kinder to his counterpart this time around. It was too late for Kakashi to be any kind of father-figure to his counterpart at this point in time, but maybe he could be something of a brother if pushed in that direction earlier. Menma knew that Kakashi had realized this on his own and had tried his hardest to make up for all that lost time, but that had been years down the road. If he could push Kakashi to even remember his counterpart, then it'd be an early start well worth hurting the other man's feelings.

"Your master," said Kakashi into the silence in the apartment, voice heavy with emotion, "was very wise. He must have been a sage."

Menma smiled, eyes fixed on the seal that was slowly growing in size under his masterful brush strokes.

"He was."

The next few moments passed in contemplative silence, each man lost in his own thoughts, both reliving some nostalgic distant memories that only they were privy to. The seal on the door was finished, a circular web of lines and characters that sprawled from the center to each of the four corners. Menma inspected the completed seal with a critical eye and nodded in satisfaction, he wouldn't need to redo any part of it.

The seal was a sophisticated barrier that allowed for maximum privacy and security. With a constant pulse of chakra running through the characters, the seal made the door near-impervious to attack and would only allow inside the people whose names and blood had been coded into its framework. It was a seal that had been designed by Menma, as a necessary precaution against his enemies.

He turned to the window, open and letting a slight breeze inside the apartment, and began to write the same seal on the space around it. He would do this for the floor, the ceiling, and every available wall. It would be timing consuming, Menma knew, but with Kakashi here in the same room he couldn't use the Kage Bunshin technique to expedite the process. Someone not from Konoha using a kinjutsu developed by the Niidaime Hokage? The questions that _that_ would raise ran through his head and he was already getting a headache.

But covering the entire apartment in his protective seal would take a long time, time he didn't really have, and he couldn't simply leave an unfinished seal array. It would leave too many weaknesses and there would be people he didn't like listening in, well, _listening in._ In the periphery of his mind was the idle thought that Konoha was its own host of enemies, but they were unimportant for now, at least until he could sort out his priorities with regards to the future.

And before he could do that, he needed to finish his seal-making so that his apartment was safe and secure. Short of booting Kakashi out, he had no options open to him. He was stuck.

Finishing the seal on the window for the kitchen/dining room, he turned to Kakashi, who was staring into space, lost in his own little world of 'maybes' and 'what ifs'. He didn't know if the one-eyed man was simply thinking so deeply it seemed like he was daydreaming, or if the man really _was_ daydreaming. He cleared his throat, a few paces from behind, which jolted Kakashi back into alertness in an instant.

Having Kakashi's attention, Menma gestured to the seal drying on his door. "I need a... favor." He placed a brush and a small ink jar in front of the man. "Do you think you can copy that seal? I realize it's going to take me a long time to complete the seal array on my own and I don't think I have that kind of time."

Kakashi looked at him dubiously, then nodded, taking the brush and ink with practiced ease. "I can help you out, but you need to answer a couple of questions of mine."

Menma was instantly weary, carefully running in his mind the different things the other man would ask him. He maintained his semi-relaxed posture, but a little coldness seeped into his features, his eyes most notably.

With the expertise of years of doing it to other people, Kakashi seemed to ignore the slight change in atmosphere. "What do you mean by seal array?"

He thought for a moment, thinking how to respond. "Seal arrays are complex constructs made from smaller, simpler seals. There is an endless permutation of arrays that you can create, depending on the formula that you use." There, as quick and painless an explanation he could manage, without all the technical jargon that usually accompanied fuuinjutsu.

"Okay, I understand. I can help you out, Hayashi-san, but I'll need to cheat."

Menma looked at Kakashi, pretending to not know about what he was talking about. "We're ninja, Hatake-san. We're supposed to cheat."

Kakashi slowly lifted his hitai-ate and fixed it on his forehead properly, the eye underneath the fabric still closed. "I was talking about my eye."

Menma nodded, in mock-understanding, as if he was only realizing what Kakashi had meant even though he already knew, "Of course, Sharingan Kakashi, please go ahead."

Kakashi turned to the door and opened his eye, the ever-active sharingan instantly focusing and committing to memory every detail of the seal. "I've got it. Where do I begin?"

* * *

Both men worked on drawing seals all over Menma's apartment and a comfortable silence settled over them, blanketing their minds with a kind of calm ninja seldom ever experienced when working with a stranger whose abilities and intentions were a mystery.

For Kakashi, it was a strange kind of feeling. Ever since that morning in the Hokage Tower, he'd been guarded around Menma, carefully scrutinizing his words and actions, trying to find some indication that the newest addition to Konoha's ninja forces was up to something nefarious. So far, he'd seen no sign of any malevolence, but it wasn't a comfort. It was more of a disturbing realization that Menma was an expert at hiding his emotions.

Menma seemed oddly comfortable with the new arrangements, although there was that moment before they'd arrived at the apartment complex, but had bounced back to some semblance of normalcy. He'd been surprisingly open about what he'd revealed to Kakashi so far, even parting with some wise words he'd heard from his late master. Kakashi didn't know what to think of it, except to feel something resonate from somewhere in his chest to the words.

There was a pang, an all-too-familiar pain of bitter regret that shook his core. Over the course of a decade he'd learned how to manage his regrets, his bitterness, and it had taken conscious effort on his part to actually bring about some positive changes to his attitude and outlook in life. He had help, grudgingly, from some of his comrades and people he would call friends. It had been a struggle, living with the ghosts, but he'd overcome a part of it and was a better person for it.

He wasn't the same standoffish shinobi bent on following the rules at the cost of a comrade, but he was better now, stronger, and he was buoyed by the belief of his fellows and his village that he was an excellent ninja. He'd made it his personal creed to emulate his deceased teammate Uchiha Obito as was possible, as a kind of living monument to the most important lesson he'd ever learned. He also visited the graves of those he'd lost, frequently, and quietly regaled them with his latest misadventures or the challenges he'd had to contend with when issued by his self-proclaimed eternal rival Maito Gai.

But then, this pang of regret was somewhat worse, more painful, more gut-wrenching. The other one, the feeling of utter loss at the death of his team and subsequent comrades while in ANBU, his father, his teacher and his teacher's wife, he could deal with; had been dealing with for almost all his life. But this feeling, the one he felt now, was nowhere near as potent as that first plunge into despair, because the first one had been caused by a combination of his own helplessness and weakness, his refusal to see the importance of teamwork, and the adamant refusal of the willing kindness of others. This new one, this new pang of pain and remorse, was caused by his own self-absorbed wallowing in pity.

He'd failed to realize that he wasn't the first to experience suffering nor would he be the last. So focused was he in his self delusion that he hadn't taken into consideration the others who were as affected as he was, some even more so.

His thoughts drifted to a little boy who had his father's looks, but his mother's personality. The boy who had been saddled with a responsibility and a duty before he could even understand the world around him, scorned by the people he was unknowingly protecting from further destruction, treated as a pariah, ignored and belittled, but always had a smile, who persevered in the face of adversity. Uzumaki Naruto, whose lineage was kept secret, for his sake, for the village's sake, who never knew the loving touch of a parent, or the unconditional love of a mother and father. His sacrifice was already above and beyond anyone's in the village, but it wasn't enough, never enough.

Kakashi ruefully shook his head. How could he have allowed that boy to grow up without anyone? Despite his own miserable losses, at least he had learned of love, friendship, the utter trust of someone he admired, and the judgment of someone whose opinions mattered to him; but what about Naruto? Who did he have to look up to? Who loved him, embraced him, and showed him the warmth of someone who cared?

Miserable and torturous his life had been, Kakashi at least had the memories of a good life to appreciate what he'd had and lost, but Naruto had none and his life was even worse.

He shuddered thinking about what Minato-sensei and his teammates would say to him. What would Kushina-san? Had he not been trusted, as Minato-sensei's student, to be there for the son they never saw grow up? Shouldn't he have been there in their stead, as a grateful student, to help raise Naruto into the ninja his parents were? To impart the lessons they'd taught him and could never teach to their son?

Then a singular thought, devastating and awe-inspiring in its ability to call forth waves of remorse, sprang into the forefront of his mind. _I should have been there_.

But he hadn't been, because where was he? _Wallowing in self-pity_. He cringed, realizing that he hadn't really changed at all, he'd simply focused on himself and ignored all others. He had opened up, but only to create the illusion that he was doing so, never really going out of his way to reach out to the only one left of his precious memories of his sensei, his team, and Kushina-san.

He hung his head in shame, clenching his fist around the brush he was holding. The seal he was working on, on a corner of the main room, was left uncompleted. Was it too late to make his presence known to the boy? Would the boy be happy or resentful? If the latter, would the boy still allow him into his life, as his sensei surely would have wanted since the beginning?

Menma must have noticed his inactivity by the corner and carefully touched his shoulder.

"It's okay, Hatake-san," he said quietly, his voice barely carrying over the stillness of the room. "Whatever it is you're thinking, it's going to be okay."

He turned to the man with the mismatched eyes and wondered if he'd allowed his emotions to leak from his mental barriers. Menma's eyes were filled with a kind of heaviness that dwarfed his own and he couldn't help but wonder what this man had gone through to get such a powerful look in such a guarded glance. That morning in the Hokage Tower, he'd been guarded around the black-haired man, but for the first time in his life Kakashi felt the inexplicable need to let it all out, to bare his heart to this stranger. Menma might have been dangerous, but the calming and assured aura around him banished all thoughts of suspicion.

He sat back on his haunches and breathed deeply. He wasn't sure if it was a jutsu, this feeling of calm, but he couldn't even move very far away from his position if it was. He was trapped, by his thoughts and by this feeling, and he couldn't help that he somehow needed to talk to this man. A feeling of assurance seemed to surge into him, coming from Menma's hand on his shoulder, and he decided to let it out, to speak about his fears, his realizations, his hopes, and dreams to a complete stranger who had only gotten to Konoha just a few hours ago and was being regarded with heavy suspicion by everyone.

No one trusted Menma, but in that singular moment, through that one touch, Kakashi did. He didn't care about the other man's reasons or intentions, he just knew that Menma was a person who would gladly lend him an ear and spare him the judgment he knew others would readily give.

It was an eerie feeling, this complete trust in the unknown, but in Menma's presence it seemed to be justified.

So he talked. He continued talking in a haunted voice, for once his illusion crumbling in the face of all his fears.

And Menma listened. There was no pity, no judgment, nothing in the man's eyes. But there was one thing, something that made Kakashi believe that Menma was someone who could be trusted without doubt, someone who could be relied upon to protect the village and its people, someone who would shoulder the burden of the world upon his shoulders if it meant keeping the harshness of life away:

He understood.

And then all the heaviness Kakashi felt simply vanished, dissipating into the air like dust in the breeze. He finished the seal that lay incomplete before him on the corner of the room, silently grateful that Menma hadn't said a word in response but seemed to have communicated his understanding nonetheless, by merely being there.

Kakashi didn't know how to explain it, slightly embarrassed by the near-breakdown of an episode. He'd only just met the man and was already considering him a... a what?

A friend. A true friend, the first one he'd had ever since Obito's death.

Gai, he was a rival, who provided him with distractions throughout his otherwise dull life. Asuma, Genma, Raidou, the other jounin, they were comrades, ready to offer him their support in missions. But Menma? Kakashi knew then, Menma was a friend.

And hopefully, Naruto would be, too.

Determined and filled with an invigorating sense of purpose, Kakashi swore to himself that he would make an effort, make the change, and reach out to Naruto, his sensei's legacy, and to the others around him. It was the least he could do in penance for his own neglect.

And he'd help Menma, too, along the way, try to lift the heaviness in the man's heart and eyes just as he had for Kakashi through that one touch.

But that was all for tomorrow though, because today he needed to finish this seal and get the rest of Menma's apartment safe and secure. But tomorrow...

Tomorrow would be a new day, a new day in the life of a Hatake Kakashi reborn.

* * *

Menma woke up early the next day hating himself for what had transpired the day before. He'd intended for the man to realize his mistakes sooner rather than later, but Kakashi's near-mental-breakdown had been extremely worrying.

His response had been worse. Sure, he'd nudged Kakashi into those realizations rather forcefully, but the breakdown had made him act without thinking. He had reached out, touched the man's shoulder, and sent a wave of assurance and peace that he himself did not feel and somehow Kakashi had bared his _soul_ at that single touch. The man must have thought he was a friend now. Shit.

That had not been his intention at all. He hadn't meant to become a _friend_ to Kakashi, because for all the similarities he might have with the Kakashi he'd known in the past now turned future, he was the same person after all, Menma felt that this version of his friend and mentor was a complete stranger. He did not know Menma, and although he knew him very well, Menma did not know Kakashi. That had been his promise, to himself, to his friends, to the _world_. But he'd gone and broken that promise like it had never existed and had reassured Kakashi, in not so many words, that it was going to be okay.

He hated himself, completely, utterly, and with the utmost conviction. Never again, he thought to himself, I'll keep my distance. These people aren't my friends and they never will be. He repeated it to himself, over and over, until he could feel his resolve harden like steel tempered in fire. He had made a mistake yesterday, but never again. Kakashi would be the only one to witness his moment of weakness, his mistake, his broken promise, and he would be the last.

Getting up from the bed was a challenge, the stresses of yesterday still aching, but he felt a small measure of security when he looked around his home. The seals were almost completely faded by now, actively blending in with the colors and the materials they were painted on, but their reassuring warmth filled him to his core. His apartment, in the course of a few hours, had become the most secure place in the entire village, except for the Hokage Tower, but that was debatable.

He heard the slightest knock on his door and a flare of chakra resonated with his. The door had absorbed a minuscule amount of chakra from the unexpected visitor and sent it back to him, so he could try to identify who it was outside his home. It was familiar, like a distant acquaintance would, but slightly stronger. Genma? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't think of anyone else who would come to visit him at such an early hour with that kind of chakra signature: familiar, yet not, but was enough to identify as belonging to someone he'd interacted with in the few hours he'd arrived in this time.

He pulled on a shirt before opening the door. A slight sliver of predawn light entered from the opening and he could see Genma's silhouette against it. The man seemed cheerful enough, oddly, at this hour and didn't seem to mind the cautious way Menma had just greeted him.

"Good morning, Hayashi-san," said Genma. "Mind if we came in?" Menma raised an eyebrow at the statement. We? Who was we?

And then Raidou appeared beside Genma, appearing a lot less put together than the other man. His mumbling could have been a greeting or a complaint, Menma wasn't sure. He opened the door wider and allowed them through. Both men entered and sat themselves on chairs around his kitchen table, Genma propping his elbow on the back rest of his chair while Raidou seemed to slump forward, not quite dozing, but not quite awake yet either.

Wordlessly, Menma put water to boil and offered them tea in the cups he'd purchased only yesterday. He sat with them, waiting for the water, and wondered what had brought them to his apartment so early in the morning. Was this the Hokage's way of summoning him to the tower? Or were these two here on a personal matter?

Within moments the water was ready and he poured enough for the three of them. Raidou accepted the tea graciously and took slow sips, allowing the brew to warm and wake him up completely.

Menma turned to Genma, correctly guessing that whatever they were here for, Raidou would not be much help in answering his questions.

Genma took a sip of his tea and smiled. "Neat place you got here, Hayashi-san. Been redecorating until late last night?"

"Not exactly. I was practicing my fuuinjutsu. Hatake-san helped me." Confused and a little weary, Menma's eyes darted from Genma to Raidou and back again. He wondered if there was a point to this visit and if they were going to get to it any time soon. He was a morning person, but he hadn't had patience for early morning small talk in _years_ now.

"Mmm, that's good to hear! You guys friends already?"

 _Kakashi thinks so_. "Not really."

Genma looked disappointed at hearing this, but recovered quickly. "Well, get dressed, Hayashi-san! It's time for us to go on a little outing and you're coming with."

Menma nodded and rose from his position from the chair. "Is it a mission?"

"Not exactly, but we've been tasked to continue the investigation from yesterday. The other teams just got back and I was told to assemble my own team, so here we are!" He nudged Raidou in the ribs, who simply swatted the hand away and grumbled about insufferable roommates who couldn't let a guy sleep. "So get yourself ready, because we're expected to move in a couple of minutes."

"Why would you choose me? I just got here."

"Exactly! And because they said you came to the site yesterday, so you might have a clue where to start, yeah?" Then Genma gave him a calculating look that he was loathe to admit sent a slight shiver down his spine. "Besides, I think you owe it to us to come with, you _did_ beat the tar out of us yesterday."

Menma sighed, conceding defeat. "Fine, I'll be ready in five."

* * *

According to Genma, they had been tasked with continuing the investigation of the pulse of chakra from the day before, several kilometers away from the actual site because the other teams had gotten that far. Of course, what had been supposed to be a routine inspection and investigation had transformed into a nightmare that would have made chuunin sweat in fear.

But not jounin, _never_ jounin, because they were the elite and were always expecting the worst to happen.

So it was little surprise to the three of them that yesterday's pulse had attracted a rather sizable number of nukenin from around the area. They weren't infringing on Konoha's territory, exactly, but they had come to make their own investigation. Curiosity was a trait that most ninja learned to cultivate, as it helped them find out certain things that they might have overlooked had they been a little less curious.

It was a trait that Menma was fervently cursing as of the moment.

He had been idly mulling over the irony that he'd been chosen to investigate the charka pulse when it was _he_ who had been the cause for the erratic eruptions of chakra as he and his two teammates moved from point to point, searching for any tracks or traces of an apparently large enough creature to cause such a spike. He never really expected that the pulse had been strong enough to be felt by a few naturally-gifted sensor nukenin, never truly thought that it might have given them the impression of a truly awesome beast that might have earned them a large sum of money to the right buyer. He was cursing his lack of forethought, but as they said, hindsight was 20/20.

He sidestepped the vicious downward swing of a wicked-looking sickle by the Kusagakure nukenin he was facing. There were more somewhere around him, somewhere, but this particular kunoichi was vicious and very skilled with her weapon of choice. She stepped forward, allowing the momentum of her swing to bring her closer to him, and drove a long knife towards his gut. She launched herself at him, intending to use combined force of her weight and the push off the ground, her knife whizzing towards the tender spot of his stomach. With an open palm, he slapped the knife away before it could connect with his flesh and smashed his knee on her face. The impact broke her nose and blood spurted in the air. He drove an elbow to her head, putting in as much force as he could, but she had somehow planted her hands on the ground and flipped, kicking his arm away from ever landing.

Talking was useless in this situation. Earlier, Genma had elected to present himself to the group of nukenin and asked what they were doing in the area. Without provocation they had attacked. Menma and Raidou had then jumped into the foray, intending to take out their targets at once, but had failed to connect with any kind of fatality. Now they were separated, with either Genma or Raidou outnumbered.

She flipped again and while in mid-air threw shuriken at him, all of which he blocked. As she landed, she launched her self again, this time with the sickle aimed low, its curve blade facing upwards and to the side a bit. She was aiming for a diagonal slash, he could see, and her knife was twirled in an underhand grip. If her slash didn't connect, she would spin on her heels and drive the knife into the area between his neck and shoulders. He could see it, but couldn't help but admire the way she was moving.

As he'd guessed, she brought the sickle in an upwards slash that would have gutted him until the blade exited just above the right side of his chest if he hadn't move to block the weapon by kicking harshly at her hand. She wasn't expecting a block from such a low angle and her momentum was lost, but she attempted to spin on her heels anyway, desperate to drive the knife into him. He ducked low to avoid her strike and mustered as much force into his legs. He leaped and smashed his head into the underside of her chin.

Her head whipped back from the force and she staggered a few paces, dazed. Taking advantage of her momentary paralysis, he began forming hand seals, before he stopped short. He wasn't well-rested yet and he hadn't determined the extent of his current abilities, so would it be wise to try the jutsu he had in mind? He had intended to test his capacity in a controlled environment, not in actual combat. Frowning, he withdrew kunai for each hand and charged the kunoichi.

In the lull of the attack, the kunoichi had fully expected him to blast her away with a jutsu, but as he'd squandered it she had regained a semblance of sense and saw his rush towards her position. She scowled and stood firmly on the ground, readying the knife and sickle in her hands for a block and counterattack. When he was a pace away she raised her knife upwards, to deflect his right-side attack, while raising her sickle to intercept his escape to the left.

In a burst of speed he reappeared just under her sickle, to her right side, instead. He crossed his kunai-wielding arms and slashed at her side, blood blossoming on her clothes. He lashed out with a foot and swept her legs from under her, before wedging a kunai to the back of her knee. She screamed in pain, and in anger, and tried to push away from the ground, but he kicked the sickle away and gripped her knife hand with his own. He applied enough force to strain her wrist until she let go of her knife.

Without another word he drove his remaining kunai, in a forehand grip, into the underside of her chin with enough force to wedge the weapon through the roof of her mouth and into her brain. The kunoichi died instantly.

He looked around hurriedly, searching for either Genma or Raidou, until he felt a blast of wind coming from the east. He recalled that Raidou had gone there. Pausing only to remove the dead kunoichi's hitai-ate, he moved to the source of the blast as quickly as he could.

A few moments later he found Raidou leaning back against a tree, panting. The scarred jounin gave him a strained smile and said, "It's the second time this week that I've been blasted away like this. Damn fuuton users."

Menma spared his a slight smile, but focused his attention on the ninja standing on the newly made clearing. Judging by the nukenin's relative distance to Raidou's tree, he guessed that the jutsu was a middle-range technique. He turned to Raidou.

"Where's Shiranui-san? And the other nukenin?"

Raidou pointed with his chin southwards. "He's fighting the rest of them over there. I tried to go help, but this guy wouldn't let me leave." Their current position was north of Genma's whereabouts, and the senbon-chewing jounin was outnumbered? They had to move on quickly and provide assistance.

"Alright, I'll distract him, you go around and take him from behind," said Menma. He moved away from the tree Raidou was leaning against and immediately caught the nukenin's attention by showing the hitai-ate he'd taken from the kunoichi earlier. The nukenin slapped his hands together and shouted in a mad rage.

"Fuuton: Daitoppa!"

Menma planted his feet to the ground with as much chakra as he could manage and braced himself. The blast of wind wasn't as powerful as he could have managed, but it was definitely enough to blast away someone unfortunate enough to be caught. But at this distance, at the very edge of the clearing, the jutsu was only half as strong. He pondered what this could mean, but shoved the introspection for later. Raidou appeared in a swirl of leaves behind the nukenin and promptly stabbed the man with his obsidian-black blade, twisting it and pulling it upwards through guts and bone. The blade exited the nukenin's flesh in a spray of blood, before Raidou swung the sword towards the neck. The head toppled from the rest of the body, fountains of blood spurting into the air.

"That was surprisingly easy," said Raidou, looking around, perhaps searching for any trace of traps or treachery. He found none.

Raidou picked up the newly decapitated nukenin's hitai-ate and then rushed southward, Menma following closely.

They stumbled upon a corpse riddled with senbon and kunai, definitely Genma's work, but up ahead they saw that Genma was locked in a kunai-shoving contest with a heavy-set shinobi with the last member of the nukenin group was nowhere to be found. Genma was straining with all his might to shove the heavier ninja's kunai with his own, but was slowly losing ground.

Menma and Raidou exchanged a glance before darting to positions. Raidou, brandishing his sword, rushed forward intent on slashing the nukenin's exposed back. Menma jumped to the trees on the lookout for the final nukenin.

A howl of pain drew his attention towards his two teammates and he saw that Raidou had slashed the man starting from the left shoulder to the right hip. The nukenin tried to turn or jump in outrage, but Genma drove a kunai across his jugular. Enraged and losing blood quickly, the nukenin tried to form hand seals, a suicide jutsu in mind, but Raidou simply swung his sword downward and the man's left hand came off in a splash of blood. Genma finished him off by driving a kunai to the man's neck, severing his spine.

And then Menma saw movement a few meters away from the victorious jounin. The final nukenin must have lain in wait for an opening to strike at Genma, but as soon as he saw Raidou appear decided to escape instead. The nukenin wasn't being very subtle, with all the rustling in the bushes giving him away, and it would only be a matter of time before either Genma or Raidou noticed. In a burst of speed, Menma leaped from tree branch to tree branch until he was just above the nukenin's position and dropped down.

As he landed he delivered a chop to where he imagined the nukenin's head would be and felt the satisfying impact of his hand against someone's skull. There was a grunt of pain and Menma pulled the nukenin out of the bushes by the hair towards Genma and Raidou.

"Why did you attack us?" he asked, dropping the nukenin on the ground.

The man didn't answer, still too dazed by the chop to the head to properly form a response. He tried to sit up, but Menma planted his foot on his chest, pinning him on the ground. He sluggishly tried to paw off the leg on his chest, but Menma stepped harder and he groaned at the building pressure. It felt like his chest was caving in.

"Why did you attack us?" Menma asked again, this time lifting his leg from the nukenin's chest and stomping viciously at his fingers. Genma and Raidou looked on with carefully blank faces.

"I w-won't," the man said, haltingly. "Tell y-you anything."

With a snarl Menma picked up the nukenin by the front of his clothes and hoisted him up, his feet uselessly dangling beneath him. The fight hadn't been difficult, not by any stretch of imagination, but his demeanor had been taken over by the ruthless persona that he'd adopted in a time of war and great suspicion. He could feel his cold visage become colder and he stayed his hand from wringing the nukenin's neck with the knowledge that the two jounin just behind him would be adequately startled by the violent behavior. He had been calm throughout the battle, level-headed, and to display the kind of violence he wanted to visit on this nukenin's head would only arouse their suspicion.

"My team approached you peacefully, yet you attacked. Tell me why." His voice was a bare whisper, still audible to Genma and Raidou, but carried hints of barely-contained anger. He clenched the man's clothes all the more tightly, to keep him from lashing out and devastating the nukenin into an indistinguishable mess on the ground. He'd had plenty of experience dealing with enemy ninja, but with plenty more dealing with the aftermath.

The nukenin seemed to regain some form of sense and knew that there was no escaping three ninja who had all but obliterated his companions. "There was a huge battle just yesterday," he said, surprisingly coherent even as he dangled from Menma's grip.

"We wanted to salvage anything left useful. Thought he," he struggled to look at Genma as he ineffectualy gripped Menma's hands, "was too weak to fight all five of us."

Genma snorted. "Yeah, look how well that turned out."

"What do we do with him?" asked Raidou.

Without even pausing for a moment, Menma drove an elbow to the side of the nukenin's face before dropping him to the ground. He pulled out a kunai and handily twirled it in his fingers before driving the sharp edge into the man's throat. He twisted the blade left and right, slicing open blood vessels, before he pulled it out. As the nukenin gurgled his last few breath, Menma took off the scratched-out hitai-ate and silently handed it to Raidou.

He gazed impassively at the slowly dying man on the ground and spoke with a voice of authority, everyone in the area who heard knew that what came next were words of finality and that there would be no disagreeing.

"Without reason or provocation your company has attacked shinobi of Konoha with intent to kill or capture. As you are without the protection of your hidden village, you are hereby tried and sentenced as a common criminal with the highest penalty: death. Drown in your blood, nukenin."

Menma turned wordlessly and began to trek back to Konoha, never looking back.

Genma looked down at the man and glanced at Raidou before they started walking after their teammate. He couldn't help but feel a little impressed and a little shocked. Menma had moved so quickly, spoke so confidently, that there was simply no room to argue or discuss another point. He wondered if it had been under different circumstances, would Menma have been so quick to action and execute a defeated enemy? Knowing the fate of enemies captured and sent to the T&I division, he knew that what Menma had done had been a small mercy. A painfully slow mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

"Remind me not to get on his bad side," he said to Raidou, careful to not let Menma hear.

"Me too, Genma," replied Raidou, casting one last pitying look at the drowning nukening they were quickly leaving behind. The man was weakly trying to cover the gaping wound with his hands and failing.

"Me too."

* * *

"You've had an eventful first day, Hayashi-san," said Hiruzen, placidly looking the scroll that Genma's team had delivered to his desk the moment they'd arrived.

"To be honest, Hokage-sama, I wasn't expecting any kind of excitement for months," replied Menma, face set in stone by the sheer impassiveness of his expression. "I guess bad luck follows me wherever I go."

"Hmm," Hiruzen gave the new jounin an even smile, not quite friendly but not quite cold either. "It's perfectly alright. There is always that one mission that goes wrong in a ninja's life."

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"How are you enjoying your accommodations so far?"

"It beats sleeping on the ground, sir. And moving all the time."

"Have you had any unfortunate... encounters with some of our villagers?"

Menma looked confused by the question, as if he didn't understand Hiruzen meant, but in the blink of an eye the impassive expression returned full force. What did that mean? Had Menma actually encountered Naruto during his brief stay in that building so far? It would have been interesting to find out what his reaction would have been to being subjected to the little boy's infamous pranks, but without knowing of Naruto's special... circumstance. Would he take it with great offence and chase after the boy, promising retribution of the most painful kind (spoken in jest, of course, lest they want the Hokage's wrath on their heads). Or would he react differently? He'd just have to wait and see, he supposed.

"None, Hokage-sama. The villagers have been very polite, so far."

"That's good to hear. That's all for now, Hayashi-san. I expect great things from you in the future."

Menma gazed at Hiruzen that he could only explain was the gaze of someone with complete faith in himself, the kind that only a self-assured professional could ever have, who was confident in his skills and ability. The look of a powerful individual. A dangerous individual.

"Of course, sir, I won't disappoint."

And Hiruzen believed it, took the words for what it was: a promise.

"And I never go back on my word."

* * *

A/N:  
Whew. That was a long Chapter 02. Anyway, thank you so much for reading a Stranger in Black. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I agonized over it, I certainly had a hard time overcoming the dreaded Writer's Block that didn't want me to write the chapter as I wanted it. If you have any comments or suggestions, or even corrections, feel free to leave me a review. To the wonderful people who reviewed the first chapter, thank you! Your comments were helpful in motivating me to write another chapter and for fixing the glaring weaknesses of Chapter 01. Special thanks goes to Seta88 for his constructive input.

Terms:  
 _Sumi_ \- ink stick  
 _Suzuri_ \- ink stone  
 _Nukenin_ \- missing ninja  
 _Kekkei Genkai_ \- bloodline limit  
 _Fuuinjutsu_ \- sealing technique

PS. To those who read the first version of Chapter 01, you might want to revisit Menma's test. I overhauled that entire scene and the others succeeding it because I felt that they were very weak. Also, add "I'm no stranger..." to your review and you get a surprise.


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